Total Drama Downton Abbey
by Her Grace the Duchess
Summary: Being re-posted on a different account.
1. Series 1 Episode 1 Part 1

_April 1912_

_..._

The sun rose behind Downton Abbey, a great and splendid house in a great and splendid park. Sp secure does it appear, that it seems as if the way of it represents will last another thousand years.

...

There was a sharp knock at the door.

"Six o'clock," Lindsay called.

"Thank you, Lindsay," Katie called back.

Katie looked across at the other body in the bed next to her.

"Bridgette?" Katie asked.

Bridgette sat up.

"Kust once in my life, I'd like to sleep until I woke up natural," Gwen commented.

Gwen groaned and lied back, eyes clothes.

...

Lindsay the scullery maid is taking out the clinker. Leshawna Patmore, the cook, comes in and ties on her apron.

"Is your fire still in?" Leshawna asked.

"Yes, Leshawna," said Lindsay.

"My, my, will wonders never cease," said Leshawna. "Have you laid the servants' hall breakfast."

"Yes, Leshawna."

"And finished blacking that stove?"

"Yes, Leshawna."

"What about the fires?"

"All lit, Leshawna."

"I suppose you woke them?"

"I don't think so."

"Then take your basket and get started on the fires on the ground floor."

Lindsay got to her feet and lifted the heavy basket.

...

Lindsay came up the grim kitchen staircase and pushed open the door. Beyond is a different world, with lights from a high glass domeplaying on the pictures in their gilt frames, on the Turkey carpets, on the rich, shining wood of the furniture and gleaming floor. Lindsay crossed the great hall into the small library. She checked the fire. It hadn't been lit, so she moved into the main library, vast, gilded and splendid. The first footman, Scott, has just finished opening up the shutters and passed her without a word, as she kneeled and glumly started to brushouy the grate.

Scott went into the richly furnished dining room. He opened the shutters as his junior, Tyler, came in with a tray.

"Where have you been?" Scott asked.

"I'm not late, am I?" Tyler replied.

"You're late when I say your late," Scott said.

...

Bridgette and Katie were in the drawing room. They opened the curtains and the shutters. Bridgette turned.

"Lindsay?" Bridgette asked. "Whatever are you doing there, crouching in the dark?"

The wretchdd Lindsay was bent over the fire grate.

"You weren't her and I didn't like to touch the curtains with my dirty hands," Lindsay explained.

"Quite right, too," said Katie.

"Why didn't you put the lights on?" Bridgette asked.

"I dursen't," said Lindsay.

"It's electricity, not the devil's handiwork," said Katie. "You'll have to get used to it sooner or later.

"At skelton Park, they've even got it in the kitchens," said Bridgette.

"What for?" Lindsay asked.

And the maids, so crisp and clean in their outfits, plumped the cushions and dusted and tidied and made the kitchen maid, still hard as work in the ashes, feel very small indeed.

...

In the downstairs passage, the august figure of Beth, the housekeeper, walked down the passage in her black dress, keyes at her belt. She paused by an open door and went in. It was the dining room.

The fire was alight. Tyler was finishing the table while Scott set out the dish holders on the sideboard and fitted their oil lampso. Beth stood for a moment.

"It's musty in here," said Beth. "Open a window."

Scott stared at her.

"It's all right, Scott," said Beth. "I'm not countermanding DJ's orders. I suppose I can ask for a window to be opened without your calling the police."

Scott was not convinced but went to open the window.

"Tyler, go and tell DJ that breakfast is ready," Beth ordered.

...

DJ, the butler, sat in his magnificence in his pantry. He wore an apron for his early duties. The silver safe is open nearby and three candlesticks are on his table. Tyler knocked at his door.

"Breakfast is ready, DJ," said Tyler.

"Ah, Tyler," said DJ. "Any papers yet?"

"They're late," said Tyler.

"They certainly are," said DJ. "Get the board out so you can do them as soon as they're here."

Tyler opened the cupboard and took out a blackened ironing board which he set up. An iron was heating on the grate.

"Do you know what's happened to the fourth Lamrie candlestick?" DJ asked.

"His lordship took one up with him," said Tyler. "He went straight from the dining room to bed."

"Did he, indeed?" DJ asked. "I'm trusting you to fetch it back when he's out of his rooms. Why didn't Scott tell me last night."

"He thought it didn't matter," said Tyler.

"Everything matters, Tyler," said DJ. "Remember that or you'll never make first footman. Never mind butler."

"Yes, DJ," said Tyler.

...

In the drawing room, the maids were finishing up as Beth looked in.

"Is the morning room tidy?" Beth asked.

"Yes, Beth," said Bridgette.

"Good," said Beth. "Iwant the dining room given a proper going over today. You can do it after they've had their breakfast."

She caught sight of Lindsay, still bent over the grate.

"Heavens, girl," said Beth. "You're building a fire, not inventing it. How many have you done?"

"This is my last one 'til they come downstairs," said Lindsay.

"Very well, said Beth. "Now go back to the kitchens before anyone sees you.

Lindsay gathered her things and scuttled out.

...

The newspaper boy was cycling down the drive towards the house, his satchel slung over his shoulder. As he approached the entrance, a lovely young face was looking out.

...

In a bedroom upstairs, Lady Courtney Crawley, twenty-one, was the family beauty. Lazily, she turned away from the window in her luxurious chamber. A fire crackled merrily in the grate. She walked to the bed and pulled at the bell rope.

...

In the servants hall, the whole household was at breakfast, as a bell rung.

"And they're off," Scott commented.

"No rest for the wicked," Beth said.

She glanced up at a line of bells. So does Leshawna.

"Lady Courtney," said Beth. "Are the tea trays ready?"

There was a constant sense of small rivalries. Bridgette got up.

"All ready, Leshawna," she said. "If the water's boiled. Could you give us a hand to take the other two up."

A lady's maid named Heather, in a black dress with no apron, snorted.

"I've got her ladyship's to carry," said Heather.

"I'll help," said Katie.

She wenr too as there was a noise at the back door.

"The papers," said DJ. "At last. Tyler."

Williem went and opened the back door and the labrador, Pharoh, cam in. The paperboy was just getting off his bike.

"You're late," Tyler said.

"I know," said the paper boy. "But..."

"But what?" Tyler asked.

"You'll see," said the paper boy.

And he was gone. Tyler, puzzled, went back in. He went to DJ's pantry and laid the newspaper out on the filthy board and began to iron the paper. DJ looked in.

"Do the _Times_ first," said DJ. "He only reads that at breakfast. And the _Sketch_ for her ladyship. You can manage the others later, if need be.

He walked away as Tyler turned the page. He was stunned.

DJ walked back to the meal table.

"Why are their papers ironed?" Lindsay asked.

"What's it to you?" Leshawna asked.

"To dry the ink, silly," said Heather. "We wouldn't want his lordship to have hands as black as yours."

She got up and left as another bell runf on the board above their heads. And another. And another. And another.

"DJ," Tyler said.

He was standingholding the looked around.

"I think you ought to see this," Tyler continued.

...

In the kitchen, the room was bustling. Leshawna was putting eggs and bacon into some chafing dishes. Beth was with her.

"I can't make myself believe it," said Beth.

"Me neither," said Leshawna.

Scott looked around the door.

"His lordship's dressed.

This immediately increased tension.

"Tyler!" Leshawna called. "Please stop talking and take this tray. And mind the burners are still lit."

"Yes, Leshawna," said Tyler,

He picked up the laden tray and. Scott questioned him.

"Is it really true?"

"'fraid so," said Tyler.

Scott shared this with the cook who shakes her head.

"Nothing in life is sure," said Leshawna.

...

In the dining room, DJ looked at his watch as Tyler hurried in. On the sideboard, the burners beneath the dish have been lit. Tyler placed the silver dishes on them.

"You're cutting it fine," said DJ.

"Yes, DJ," said Tyler.

...

A door opened. Chris walked out of the dressing room. With a growl of delight, Pharoh bounds over to bid his master good morning, and to follow him. Chris, Earl of Grantham, handsome and clever, but his life isn't as uncomplicated as one might think. He walked along the gallery and on down to the massive staircase into the great hall. He went to the dining room.

In the dining room, DJ stood alone by the sideboard.

"Good morning, DJ," said Chirs.

"Good morning m'lord," said DJ.

"Is it true," Chris asked. "What they're saying?"

"I believe so, m'lord," said DJ.

Chris took a plate. Watched by DJ, he lifted the lids and helped himself to breakfast.

"I'm afraid we'll know some people on it," said Chris. "Lady Rothes for one. We only saw hwe a few weeks ago. I don't suppose there are lists of survivors, yet?"

"I understand most of the ladies were taken of in time," said DJ.

"You mean the ladies in first class?" Chris said.

He looked at the butler who acknowledges this. Chris sat and shook open the paper. On the third page, there is a picture of the familiar four-funnelled liner, _Titanic_.

Courtney entered with her sister Anne Maria, twenty. The upstairs echo of the rivalry between the servants, is the relationship between Courtney and Anne Maria.

"When Bridgette told me, I thought she must have dreamed it," said Anne Maria.

"Do we know anyone on board?" Courtney asked.

She went to help herself to breakfast. Anne Maria joined her.

"Your mother knows the Astors - at least she know _him_," said Chris. "And we dined with Lady Rothes last month. There are bound to be more."

"I thought it was supposed to be unsinkable," Anne Maria commented.

"Every mountain is unclimbable 'til someone climbs it," said Chris. "Therefore ever ship is unsinkable until someone sinks it."

The door opened again. This time it is, his youngest, Lady Gwen, seventeen, who came in with an envelope."

"Good morning, Papa," said Gwen.

He nodded, pointing at the yellow square.

"What's that?" Chris asked.

"Just arrived," said Gwen. "A telegram. I told him to wait, in case there's an answer.

Chris took it, slit it open and read. He was quite still dor a moment. then stood abruptly and left the room. The girls stare at their fathe's unfinished plate.

...

Chris went to the bedroom passage. As he appeared, a door opened. Heather came out.

"Is her ladyship awake?" Chris asked.

"Yes, m'lord," said Heather. "I'm just going to take in her breakfast."

Chris gently knocked , speaking as he did so.

"May I come in?"

...

Blainley, Countess of Grantham, is in bed. she's pretty, in her fourties, add American. She was reading the paper and looked up.

"Did J. J. Astor get off?" Blainley asked. "Of course that new wife of his is bound to have been _rescued_."

"I've had a telegram from George Murray," said Chris. "One of his partners is in New York."

"Yes?" Blainley asked.

"Appearently James and Patrick were on board," said Chris.

That was astonishing. Terrible. She put down the paper.

"What?" Blainley asked. "They can't have been. They weren't goin 'til May."

"Then they changed their plans," said Chris. "They're definetly on the passenger list."

Blainley was aghast. With a knock, Heather entered carrying a tray. She placed it across Blainley's legs while Blainley and Chris stared at each other.

"But surely they must have been picked up?" Blainley said.

"Doesn't look like it," said Chris.

"What?" Blainley gasped. "Both of them?"

A thought occured to her.

"You must tell Courtney. She can't hear it from anyone other than you."


	2. Series 1 Episode 1 Part 2

In Courtney's bedroom, Bridgette and Katie were on either side of the bed finishing off the counterpane. Heather stood in the doorway.

"Neither of them were picked up," said Heather. "That's what he said."

"Mr. Crawley and Mr. Patrick?" Bridgette asked.

"That's what he said," Heather repeated. "Her ladyship's face was the color of this cloth."

"Well, it's a terrible shame if it's true," said Katie.

"It's worse than a shame," said Heather. "It's a complication."

She left. Bridgette and Gwen picked up some linens, a candlestick and a water carafe and follwed.

In the back staircase, the three maids were coming down into the hall.

"What do you mean?" Katie asked.

"What do you think?" Heather responded. "Mr. Crawley was his lordship's cousin and heir to the title.

"I thought Lady Courtney was the heir," said Katie.

"She's a girl stupid," said Heather. "Girls can't inherit. But now Mr. Crawley's dead. And Mr. Patrick as his only son. So what happens next?"

"It's a dreadful thing," said Bridgette.

"Hello?" said a male voice.

There was a man standing in the hall. With a suitcase.

"I've been waiting at the back door," he said. "I knocked but bi one came."

"So you pushed in," said Heather.

"I'm Geoff Bates," he said. "The new valet."

What made this surpizing is that he walked with a stick and had a noticable limp. Heather stared at him.

"The new valet?" Heather questioned.

"That's right," said Geoff.

"You're early," said Heather.

"Came on the milk train," Geoff said. "Thought I could use the day to get to know the place. And start tonight."

Bridgette stepped forward.

"I'm Bridgette," she said, "the head housemaid."

"And I'm Heather," said Heather, "her laduship's maid."

"How do you do?" said Geoff.

He held out his hand. Bridgette shook it. Heather did not.

"You'd better come along with us," said Heather.

Geoff shared a look with Bridgette as he went.

...

In the kitchen, Beth was questioning Geoff, watched by Heather, Leshawna and the rest. They were amazed.

"But how can you manage?" Beth asked.

His answer was direct, even challenging.

"Don't worry about that," he said. "I can manage."

"Because we've all got our own work to do," Leshawna put in.

"I can manage," Geoff repeated.

DJ and Scott entered.

"All right, Beth," DJ said. "I'll take over, thank you. Good morning, Mr. Bates, and welcome."

But he hadn't seen the stick until the others had broken back giving him full view.

"I hope your journey was all right?" DJ said.

"It was fine," said Geoff. "Thank you."

"I am the butler of Downton," DJ continued. "My name is DJ Carson."

"How do you do, Mr. Carson," said Geoff.

"And this is Scott, first footman" DJ said gesturing to Scott. "He's been looking after his lordship since Mr. Watson left. It'll be a relief to get back to normal. Won't it, Scott."

But Scott wasn't sure he wanted to go back to normal and even DJ was not sure this change will be "normal."

"I'm sure everything's ready for Mr. Bates' arrival?" DJ asked.

"I've put him in Mr. Watson's old room," said Beth, "though he left it in quite a state, I can tell you."

"But what about all of the stairs?" Leshawna asked.

"I keep telling you, I can manage," Geoff sighed.

The awkward moment registered. Bridgette came to the rescue.

"Of course you can," she said.

"Scott take Mr. Bates to his room and show him where he'll be working," said DJ.

Scott and Geoff went off together.

"Thank you everyone," said DJ.

The company dispersed back to their tasks.

"Well," said Heather. "I can;t see that lasting long."

"Thank you, Heather," said DJ.

He left, leaving her flattened.

...

In the servants' staircase Geoff briefly paused at the foot of the ninety-seven stone steps as scott moved ahead... Geoff followed.

...

In the servants' attic, Scott warched from the ddoor as Geoff put his case on the bed. The room was modest but adequate.

"Oh, yes," said Geoff. "I'll be comfortable here. Why did the last chap leave."

"Nobody knows," said Scott. "Just took off. Came down one morning, said cheerio, and that was it. Some of his lordship's cufflinks went missing at the same time, but nothing was done about it."

"Why not?" Geoff asked.

"They don't like scandal and he was clever enough not to take too much," said Scott. "Come on."

...

In the library, Courtney was completely stunned. She was alone with her father.

"But I thought he wasn't going over until next month," said Courtney.

"And he didn't write to say they were leaving earlier?" Chris asked.

"We weren't in each other's pockets," said Courtney.

"No," Chris said.

A horrid thought struck her.

"Does this mean I'll have to go into full mourning?" Courtney asked.

"My first cousin and his son are almost certainly dead," said Chris. "We will all be in mourning."

"No, I mean with the other thing," Courtney said. "After all it wasn't official..."

"If you're saying you do not wish to mourn Patrick as a fiancee, that is up to you," said Chris.

"No one knew about it, outside the family," Courtney said.

"Like I said, it's up to you," said Chris.

"Well that's a relief," Courtney sighed.

...

Chris' dressing room was neat, lined with mahogany doors, with dressing brushes and bibelots out on a chest of drawers. The large bed as always made up, but never slept in. Scott closed the wardrobe door.

"There's some cedar-lined cupboards in the attick, for things that aren't often worn," said Scott. "Travelling clothes and such. Mr. Watson used to rotate the summer and winter stuff. I'll show you later."

"What about studs and links?" Geoff asked. "Do I choose them? Or does he?"

"Lay them out unless he askes for something in particular," Scott answered. "These are for a ball, these are for an ordinary dinner, these are only for London..."

"I'll get the hang of it," said Geoff.

"Yeah, you'll have to," said Scott.

Geoff wandered over to the vitrine beneath the window.

"Snuff boxes," said Scott. "He collects them."

"It's lucky Mr. Watson didn't help himself," Geoff commented.

"He knew they wouldn't let him go if he had," said Scott. "He was canny like that."

Geoff stared down at the glittering geejaws.

...

In the upstairs passage, Scott met Heather, who was carrying some linen.

"Well?" Heather questioned.

"I can't believe I've been passed over for Long John Silver," Scott gumbled.

"You should have spoken up when you've had the chance," Heather pointed out. "Don't make the same mistake next time."

"Who says there'll be a next time?" Scott said.

But Beth was in the passage now.

"Is this a public holiday no one's told me of?" Beth asked.

They went about their business, but Heather winked at Scott.

...

In the gardens, Chris and Blainley were walking the dog.

"I think she's quite right," Blainley said.

Chris didn't comment.

"It was a family understanding, that's all," Blainley continued. "There's no need to present her as second hand goods because of a private arrangement."

"If you say so," said Chris. "She was reluctant to go into mourning."

"Well, she'll have to," said Blainley. "We all will. Heather's sorting out my black now and I've told Bridgette ro see what the girls have that still fits."

But mourning was not what she was thinking about.

"Of course this alters everything," said Blainley.

She spoke with real finality, but he said nothing

"You won't try to deny it?" Blainley asked. "You'll challenge the entail _now_? Surely."

"Can't we at least wait until we know they're dead before we discuss it?" Chris groaned.

"Don't talk as if I'm not brokenharted, because I am," said Blainley.

But she still had something to get off her chest.

"Of course I've never understood why this estate has to go to whomever inherits your title-"

"I don't make the law," said Chris.

"But even if I did, why was _my_ money made part of it?" Blainley asked.

"I can't go over this again," said Chris. "My father was anxious to secure Downton's future and-"

"Your father was anxious to secure my cash!" Blainley exclaimed. "He didn't wait a month before he made me sign it over!"

"If we'd had a son, you'd never have noticed," said Chris.

"It was bad enough that Patrick would get everything," said Blainley, "but at least he was going to marry Courtney-"

The sight of DJ walking towards them calmed her down.

"What is it?" Chris asked.

"The Dowager Countess is in the drawing room," said DJ.

"I'll come now," said Chris.

"She asked for _Lady_ Grantham," said DJ.

This was a surpise to both husband and wife.

"I wonder what I've done wrong this time," Blainley sighed.

She didn't bother to include the butler.

"Oh, and the new valet has arrived m'lord," said DJ.

"Has he?" Chris asked.

"I'm not sure he'll prove equal to the task but your lordship will be the judge of that," said DJ.

He turned back to the house. Chris and Blainley registered this.

"I'd better go," said Blainley.

"Tell her about James and Patrick," said Chris. "She wouldn't have heard."

...

"_Of course I've heard_!" Izzy, Dowager Countess of Grantham exclaimed. "Why else would I be here?"

"Chris didn't want you to read it in the newspaper and be upset," said Blainley.

"He flatters me," said Izzy. "I'm tougher than I look."

Blainley's expression implied that this would be hard.

"I'm very sorry about poor Patrick of course," said Izzy. "He was a nice boy."

"We were all so fond of him," Blainley put in.

"But I never cared for James," Izzy said. "He was to much like his mother and a nastier woman never drew breath."

Which put paid to any worriesabout excessive grief.

"Will you stay for luncheon?" Blainley asked.

"Thank you," said Izzy.

Blainley walked to the bell rope.

"I'll let DJ know," said Blainley.

"I've already told him," said Izzy. "Shall we sit down."

Izzy had business to discuss.

"You agree this changes everything," Izzy continued.

For once, Blainley was surprised. She did agree.

"My word entirely," said Blainley.

"Do you know the knew heir?" Izzy asked.

"Only that there is one," said Blainley.

"He's Chris' third cousin once removed," Izzy explained. "I have never, to my knowledge, set eyes on him."

They both knew what this conversation was about.

"Of course if I hadn't been forced to sign that absurd act of legal theft by your late husband!" Blainley said.

Izzy flashed for a moment, then steadied herself.

"I haven't come for a fight," Izzy said.

Blainley was silent. Why had her mother-in-law come?

"Lord Grantham wanted to protect the estate," Izzy continued. "It never occured to him that you wouldn't have a son."

"Well, I didn't," Blainley said bitterly.

"No," said Izzy. "You didn't."

Obviously, this had been a source of quarrel before now.

"But when Patrick had married Courtney and your grandson been hailed as master, honour would have been satisfied," said Izzy. "Unfortunatly, now-

"Now a complete unknown has the right to pocked my money along with the rest of the swag!" Blainley exclaimed in a soft voice.

"What does Chris say?" Izzy asked.

"Nothing yet," said Blainley. "He's too upset."

"Good," Izzy said. "Don't let him come to a decision until we can be sure it's the correct one," Izzy said.

At this, Blainley started to huff, but Izzy raised her palm.

"The problem is, saving your dowry would break up the estate," Izzy explained. "It'd be the ruin of everything Chris' given his life to."

"And he knows this?" Blainley asked.

"If he doesn't, he will," said Izzy.

"Then there's no answer," said Blainley.

Blainley was now truley fascinated.

"Yes there is," said Izzy, "and it's a simple one. The entail must be smashed in it's entirety abd Courtney recognised as heiress of all."

"There's nothing we could do about the title," said Blainley.

"No," said Izzy, "she can't have the title. But she can have your money. And the estate. I didn't run Downton for thirty years to see it go, lock, stock and barrel, to a stranger from goodness knows where."

"Are be friends then?" Blainley asked.

"We are allies," said Izzy. "Which can be a good deal more effective.

...

In the servants hall, it was lunchtime. Leshawna, Lindsay and the kitchen staff were eating in the kitchen and in the other room, DJ was addressing Geoff.

"Downton is a great house, Geoff," said DJ, "and the Crawleys are a great family. We live by certain standards and those standards can at first seem daunting.

"Of course," Geoff nodded.

If you find yourself tongue-tied in the presence of his lordship," DJ continued, "I can only assure you that his manners and his grace wukk soon help you to perform your duties to the best of your ability."

"I know-" Geoff started.

"Geoff!" a male voice called.

Everyone turned. Chris was standing in the doorway. The stunned company struggled to their feet.

"Probably should have realized you'd be at luncheon," Chris muttered. "I just want to say a quick hello to my old comrade in arms. Welcome to Downton."

But Geoff struggled to his feet and now Chris saw that he was disabled. He took his hand.

"Sorry... even though I'm not really," said Chris.

He went. The table sat down and was silent with everybody's eyes fixed on Geoff. He shrugged slightly, looking around.

"You never asked," he said simply.

Heather caught Scotts eye. Their look was not friendly.


	3. Series 1 Episode 1 Part 3

_3 Monthes Later_

...

In the kitchen, Leshawna and the kitchen maids were working flat out.

"Scott, take that up!" Leshawna ordered.

The footman loaded pies onto a tray with Lindsay's help.

"Leave that, Lindsay!" Leshawna snapped. "He's a grown man. I suppose he can lift a meat pie. Now put the apple tart into the low oven!"

Lindsay smiled at Scott as he hurried out. Leshawna saw a bowl on the side.

"And take that away," Leshawna said. "Mr. Lynch shouldn't have left it there."

"What is it?" Lindsay asked.

"Salt of Sorrell," Leshawna said. "I asked him for some to clean the brass pots. But there's no time until the luncheon, so put it somewhere careful. It's poison."

Lindsay picked it up, surveying the many waiting dishes.

"It seems like a lot of food," Lindsay commented, "when you think they're all in mourning."

"Nothing makes you hungrier or more tired than gried," said Leshawna. "When my sister died, God rest her soul, I ate my way through four platefuls of sandwitchesat one sitting and slept around the clock."

"Did it make you feel better?" Lindsay asked.

"Not much," Leshawna admitted. "But it passed the time."

Lindsay took a step towards the scullery.

"Oh, my goodness," said Leshawna, "what was this chopped egg supposed to be sprinkled on?"

She picked up a bowl of egg from the table.

"Was it the chicken?" Lindsay asked.

"It was," said Leshawna. "Take it upstairs now."

"I can't go in the dining room," Lindsay said.

"I should think not," said Leshawna. "Find Scott or Tyler and tell them what to do."

Lindsay still hesitated.

"For heaven's sake," Leshawna sighed. "Get a move on, before they get back from church."

...

People in black emerged from the Downton church, among them a sober-looking lawyer, George Murray, who was walking with Chris.

"Well, we've given them a memorial in London and a memorial here," siad Chris. "I don't know what else we can do."

"I think it's gone off pretty well, all thing considered," said Harold. "I prefer memorials to funerals. They're less dispiriting."

"We could hardly hold a funeral without the bodies," said Chris.

"It was right to bury Mr. Crawley in Canada," said Harold. "In fact I hear the Canadians are making quite a thing of the _Titanic _cemetery."

"It seems strange to bury James without Patrick," said Chris.

"They still may find some trace of him," said Harold.

"After three months?" Chris asked. "No, I'm afraid Patrick was food for the fishes a long time ago."

Chris sighed. It was very distressing.

"I'm surprised at the number they found," said Harold. "You'd think the sea would have taken more of them."

"They didn't all drown appearantly," said Chris. "They froze to death in their life jackets. Hundreds of corpses, men, women and children, bobbing on the surface of the ocean."

...

In the Downton Abbey gardens, Chris and Harold approached the house. The members of the congragation walked behind, including the girls.

"So, Harold, what hae you to tell me about the lucky Mr. Crawley?" Chris asked. "Nothing too terrible, I hope."

"I've only made a few enquiries but, no," said Harold, "there's not much to alarm you. Duncan Crawley is a solicitor, based in Manchester-"

"Manchester?" Chris questioned.

"Manchester," Harold repeated. "His special field is company law."

"Really?" Chris asked.

"His mother is alive and he lives with her," Harold continued. "His father, obviously, is not. He was a doctor."

"I know," said Chris. "It does seem odd that my third cousin should be a doctor."

His prejudice was unconscious. Harold was slightly offended.

"There are worse professions," Harold pointed out.

"Indeed," Chris agreed.

...

Lindsay waited at the basr of the service stairs, until she spied Tyler coming down.

"Do me a favor," Lindsay said. "This should have been sprinkled on the chicken."

"But there isn't more to go up?" Tyler asked.

"Please," Lindsay begged. "It won't take a moment."

"Give it here," said Tyler.

Lindsay handed over the bowl and ge turned to go back up.

...

Back in the garden, Chris and Harold approached the entrence to the great house.

"We ought to talk about the business of the entail," said Harold.

"Shall we do it after luncheon?" Chris suggested.

"Can we tackle it now?" Harold asked. "There's not much to be said on the subject."

Chris could see these words were not a good sign.

"As you know, on your death the heir to the title inherits everything," Harold continued, "except for the sums set aside for your daughters and your widow."

"Yes," said Chris.

"Owing to the terms of her settlement," said Harold, "this will include the bulk of you wife's fortune."

"It has been the soul topic of conversation since the day the ship went down," said Chris.

"Of course it must seem horribly unjust to Lady Grantham," said Harold, "but that is how the law stands."

"Is there really no way to detach her money from the estate?" Chris asked. "Even to me, it seems absured."

"Your father tied the knot pretty tight," said Harold. "I'd say it's unbreakable."

"I see," said Chris.

"The consolation must be that if you did extract the Levinson mone," Harold said, "Downton would collapse."*

"You mean it could only be achieved by massive selling," said Chris.

"It would be impossible for your heirs to remain here," said Harold.

A bitter thought struck Chris.

"I can hardly question that," said Chris. "Since _I_ could not have stayed here if I hadn't gotten hold of the Levinson the first place!"

His emotions had unwittingly broken out. They'd reached the house and Chris strided inside, leaving the lawyer to make his own way in. Courtney, Anne Maria and Gwen were walking behind them. Anne Maria made a point of wiping her eyes.

"Really," Courtney sighed. "Do you have to put on such an exhibition?"

"She's not," said Gwen.

"I was supposed to be engaged to him for heaven's sake," said Courtney, "and _I _can control myself."

"Then you should be ashamed," said Anne Maria.

Without waiting for a reply, she walked inside.

...

Lindsay went back to the kitchen, still holding a bowl.

"Come on, girl, get a move on!" Leshawna snapped.

She passed Lindsay, carrying a hot serving dish.

"Oh, and son't tell me you've not sent up the egg!" Leshawna continued.

Lindsay looked at the dish she was carrying and stopped dead. Without a word, she spun and raced out the wasy she came.

She went to the base of the service stairs. She was trembling with terror when Katie appeared.

"Oh, God, help me!" Lindsay cried. "Please, God, help me,"

"What on earth's the matter?" Katie asked, confused.

"Just run upstairs to the dining toom and find Tyler, I beg you," Lindsay continued to cry.

"I can't do that now," Katie said.

"You've got to," Lindsay begged. "I'll be hanged if you don't."

Katie looked even more confused. Lindsay moaned with fear, when they heard a voice.

"Lindsay? Is that you?" That was Tyler.

He came around the bend in the stair, holding the bowl.

"Is this the chicken in the sauce?" Tyler asked. "Or the plain chicken with the sliced oranges?"

Lindsay almost fainted with relief and joy.

"Oh, thank you, blessed and merciful Lord," Lindsay prayed. "Thank you."

She ran up to him and swapped the bowls.

"I'll never do anything sinful again I swear it!" Lindsay sighed.

A rather bemused Tyler nodded and went back up.

She hurried to the kitchen, leaving a puzzled Katie.

...

Chris was in the hall with Harold. The other guests were starting to walk past them, nodding and smiling sadly, and entered the dining room.

"Lord Grantham says you're not staying, after all?" Blainley asked walking up to the pair.

"You're very kind, Lady Grantham, but I must get back to London," said Harold.

"But you'll stay for luncheon?" Blainley asked.

"Thank you, but no," Harold declined. "I'll eat on the train. In fact, if you'd be so good as to ask for the motor to be brought round."

:I though you wanted the afternoon to talk things through?" Blainley questioned.

"I think we've said everything we have to say," Harold said. "Haven't we, my lord."

He looked over for confirmation.

"For the time being, yes," said Chris. "Thank you, Murray. You've given me a good deal to think about."

Was this hopeful?

Meanwhile the girld were loitering to the side. Blainley turned to them.

"Courtney, try to get everyone into the dining room," Blainley ordered. "And Anne Maria, make sure old Lord Minterne sits down."

...

In DJ's pantry, DJ was decanting port. Hed had stretched the gauze across a silver funnel and then he lighted the flow of wine as he poured. Beth was watching him.

"They've all gone then?" Beth asked.

"They have, thank the Lord," DJ said.

"What about the lawyer?" Beth questioned.

"He was the first away," said DJ. "Didn't even stay for the luncheon."

"I wish they'd make their minds up," Beth said. "Katie's put clean sheets on the Blue Room bed. Now she'll just have to strip it again.

"Can't you leave it for the next guest?" DJ asked.

"Only if you don't tell," Beth said.

Which made them both laugh.

"So, has it all been settled?" Beth continued.

"No, I don't know that anything's been _settled_," said DJ. "There's a fellow in Manchester with claims to the title, I gather. But it's all a long way from settled.

"You mustn't take it personally, Beth," said DJ. "I can't stand by and watch out family threatened with the loss of all they hold dear."

"They're not 'our' family," said Beth.

"They're all the family I've got!"

To her surprise, he was almost yelling.

"I beg your pardon," said DJ.

"Do you ever wish you'd gone the other way?" Beth asked.

He looked at her. What did she mean? She shrugged.

"Worked in a shop?" Beth pressed. "Or a factory? Had a wife and children?"

"Do you?" DJ asked.

"I don't know," said Beth. "Maybe. Sometimes."

There was a knock at the door and Katie entered.

"Tyler's laid out tea in the library but her ladyship hasn't come down," she said.

"Oh, she'll be tired," said Beth. "Take a tray up to her bedroom."

"Is Scott back?" DJ asked.

"Not yet, DJ," said Katie.

She went. DJ looked at Beth.

"He asked to run down to the village," said DJ. "I didn't see why not."

"I suppose they do realize this is a job and not just a chance to pit their feet up.

She sighed. And so did he.

...

Chris was alone by the fire staring into the flames, when Gwen came in, closing the door behind her.

"Are you alright, Papa?" she asked.

"What did Mr. Murray have to say?" Gwen asked.

"Only that I have some very difficult decisions ahead," said Chris.

"You must do what you think is right," said Gwen.

"I may not have an option," said Chris.

"No," said Gwen. "I only mean... you should do what you feel is yout duty. Not just what's best for Courtney."

He looked at her. She realized how bald her statement was.

"Or Anne Maria," Gwen continued. "Or me. We'll manage."

"Of course you will," said Chris.

But she had given herself away a little, all the same.**

...

In Blainley's bedroom, Katie was leaving. The tra tray she had brought was on the table. Heather helped Blainley into a relaxing tea gown.

"It's inquitious," said Heather. "They can't expect you to sit by silent, as your fortune is stolen away?"

"Can't they?" Blainley asked.

"His lordship would never let that happen," Heather said.

But Blainley would say nothing on the topic. She stretched out on a daybed, taking up a book. Heather poured some tea.

"How;s Geoff working out?" Blainley asked.

"Well..." said Heather, "I don't like to say."

Blainley looked at her, over the book.

"Only it seems unkind to criticise a man for an affliction, m'lady," Heather clearified.

Blainley still didn't comment. Heather pressed her case.

"Even if it means he can't do his job," Heather continued.

At this, Blainley did focus on what her maid was saying.

...

In the library, Chris was writing. Pharoh laid by the fire. The door opened.

"DJ said you wanted to see me, m'lord," said Geoff.

"Yes, Bates, I thought I'd have a bath before I change tonight," said Chris. "I'll come up before trhe gong."

"Very good, m'lord," said Geoff.

He started to go, but Chris stopped him.

"So how are you settling in?" Chris asked, pretending like he cared.

"Very well, I think," said Geoff. "Unless your lordship feels differently."

"No complaints?" Chris questioned.

"If I had any, I should take them up to DJ, m'lord," said Geoff. "Not you."

"You're probably right," said Chris.

He chuckled at being put in his place. But he did need to reassure himself about Geoff.

"And the house hasn't worn you out?" Chris asked. "With the endless stairs and everything?"

"I like the house," said Geoff. "I like it as a place to work."

Chris nodded. He was slightly emboldened by their talk.

"What happened?" Chris aked.

"It's only the old wound," Geoff explained. "After I left the army I'd a spot of bother and, just when I'd got through that, about a year ago my knee started playing up."

With a wry laugh, he gestured with his stick.

"A bit of sharpnel was left in or something," Geoff continued, "And it moved. But it's fine. It's not a problem."

But Chris was clearly troubled, which he tried to lighten.

"We've seen sometimes, haven't we Geoff?" Chris said.

"We have, m'lord," said Geoff.

"And you'd let me know if you felt it was all too much for you?" Chris asked.

"I would," said Geoff. "But it won't be."

...

Scott was walking up the drive in the beautiful park.

He went to the kitchen courtyard amd came in through the gate.

"And where have you been?"

Scott turned. Heather sat on a low window ledge. She was smoking.

"The village," said Scott. "To send a telegram if you must know."

"Ooh, pardon me for living," said Heather.

She offered him a cigarette. These two were friends.

"Well, Harold Murray didn't stay long," said Heather.

"Does her ladyship know how they left it?" Scott asked.

"They talked all the way through on the way back from the church," said Heather.

"If I was still his valet, I'd get it out of him," Scott said.

"Geoff won't say a word," said Heather.

She rolled her eyes of the absurdity of this.

"He will not," Scott agreed. "I'd better tanner he's a spy in the other direction."

She shuddere, and he looked at her questioning.

"I wanted that job," Scott continued. "We were all right together, his lordship and me."

"Then be sure to get your feet in the door, when Geoff is gone," said Heather.

That was a rather big assumption.

"We can't get rid of him just because he talks behind our backs," said Scott.

"There's more than one way to skin a cat," Heather says.

She gave him a wink.***

...

In Courtney's bedroom, Bridgette was dressing Courtney's hair for dinner, watched by Anne Maria and Gwen. They are all three in black evening clothes.

"Perhaps she misunderstood," said Bridgette.

"No," said Courtney. "It was quite plain. Heather told her Geoff can't do his job properly. Why was he taken on?"

"He was Lord Grantham's batman when he was fighting the Boers," said Bridgette.

"I know that, but even so," said Courtney.****

"How can a valet do his work if he's lame," Courtney continued.

"He's not very lame," said Bridgette. "There."

She had finished. She took up a few itemes to wash.

"Anything else before I go down?" Bridgette asked.

"No," said Courtney. "That's it. Thank you."

The maid left. Courtney grimaced at her skirt.

"Oh, I hate black," Courtney moaned.

"It's not for long," said Gwen. "Mama says we can go into half mourning next month. And back to colours by September."

"It still seems like a lot for a cousin,"said Courtney.

"But not for a fiance," said Anne Maria.

There was a momentary silence.

"He wasn't really a fiance," said Courtney.

"No?" Anne Maria raised an eyebrow. "I thought that's what you call a man you're going to marry."

"I was only going to marry him if nothing better turned up," said Courtney.

"Courtney!" Gwen scolded. "What a horrid thing to say!"

"Anne Maria would have taken him," said Courtney, "wouldn't you?"

"Yes," Anne Maria admitted. "I'd have taken him. If you'd given me the chance, I'd have taken him like a shot."

The awkwardness of this prompted Gwen to calm things down.

"Might something turn up?" Gwen asked.

"We'll have to wait and see," said Courtney.

"We'll have to wait and see if he come to the boil," said Anne Maria.

"He will," said Courtney. "Don't you worry."

"He hasn't yet," Anne Maria pointed out.

"Who?" Gwen asked. "Who hasn't."

Courtney continued to adress her spikier sister.

"Things are different for me, now," said Courtney.

"How do you know?" Anne Maria asked. "Has Papa told you things are different? Suppose he can't make them different?"

"He can and he will," Courtney said firmly. "It's not like when it was all going to Patrick. _Papa _won't give anything to a man we've never _heard_ of."

"Are you happy to catch him in that way?" Anne Maria asked.

Gwen was confused.

"In a way?" Gwen asked. "Who? What's changed? What things are different?"

But Courtney and Anne Maria know what they're talking about.

...

***Levinson is Blainley/Cora's maiden name hence her family.**

****In the show, it Anne Maria/Edith who came in and had this conversation. I just felt it was better for this if Gwen/Sybil did it. There was also more to the conversation with a sad but kind of cute father/daughter moment, I just though it would get a little too OOC if I kept it in. So, I shortened it.**

*****I know it sounds like these two are going to get together, but they aren't. **

**1. In the show O'Brien is like fourty-eight and Thomas is like twenty-eight-thirty one.**

**2. It's just impossible. Why? It's revealed later in the episode. It's a pretty good twist and I won't dare give it away. ;)**

******There was a line after this one that Gwen/Sybil had. It was, "I think it's romantic." I took it out because that didn't sound like something Gwen would say.**


	4. AN

A/N: I have a lot of ideas for stories like this (movies and shows with Total Drama) so I'm going to put them on a separate account. Just to be easier on me. It'll be on the account MiaMou


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